The Villain Alpha's Cursed Mate-Chapter 205: Donovan Is Not The True Bearer

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Esme had finished making up the concoction for Althea, and she watched as Althea drank every last drop without even the slightest hesitation. Guilt twisted in Esme’s chest as she wondered how she had not noticed Althea’s condition sooner.

Silently berating herself for it, she moved to sit beside her.

"You’ll need to take this daily," Esme instructed gently, her voice soft with pure concern. "At least for the entire week. We’ll monitor your sleeping schedule from now on till the end of the week. If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to come to me. I’ll do whatever I can to help you. Try to get some rest, alright?"

Althea set her empty bowl on the table, her fingers lingering on its edge before her gaze shifted to Esme. For a fleeting moment, a glimmer of gratitude surfaced in her eyes, breaking through the shadows of her exhaustion and worry. But the solemnity quickly returned as she stared down at the bowl she had so desperately drained.

After a pause, she finally spoke, her voice quiet and erringly distant. "You know... when I was still a little girl, I suffered from this exact same thing. The nightmares were more relentless, and I was told it was my curse, trying to frighten me... to show me a future that would come to pass. This was my own trauma as a child. I even had a dream about my parent’s passing, and that came true."

Her fingers trembled slightly as they reached up to feel the mark lingering on her collarbone, a mark she never reminded herself was there.

"I even dreamt about the disaster that would unfold during the day I lost my home, before the Damned secured the rest of us survivors. The only ones who knew about my dreams were my sister and Acheron. They did everything they could to help me conquer my nightmares, and when Neville started donating the vaccines he made, the nightmares stopped."

She exhaled slowly, her shoulders sagging as she continued. "Those nightmares were so vivid... so real. I truly believed they had stopped. But now... they’re back. And I don’t know why."

Her voice wavered, laced with pure uncertainty as she shifted in her seat. "I took some of the vaccines since Neville was considerate enough to give them to me. But the dreams won’t go away. I can’t tell if it’s the true bearer trying to reach me... or if it’s something else entirely."

Her words hung low in the air, heavy with unspoken fear. Esme could only lend a listening ear, wishing she could do more to ease the burden Althea carried. Her hands trembled ever so slightly, a faint quiver she struggled to control. But when Esme’s warm hand settled gently atop hers, she flinched, startled by the unexpected touch. The gesture was small, yet it was the anchor Althea desperately needed to steady herself.

"There’s no need to be afraid," Esme’s voice was soft and comforting. "You’re not alone. If these nightmares are haunting you, then we’ll find a way to end them for good. But if you don’t mind me asking, what exactly are you seeing in these dreams?"

Althea’s heart clenched as vivid images surged through her mind due to that one question. Scenes of chaos, devastation, and lifeless bodies strewn across the ground. The sky was dark, and faces she recognized lay motionless, their eyes vacant. But then, in the midst of the destruction stood a little girl, her figure hauntingly still, and beside her was Donovan, who watched the chaos unfold in eerie silence.

A shudder ran through Althea, and she forced herself to banish the horrific visions before they consumed her. But before she could speak, a sharp knock echoed through the room, shattering the moment.

"Stay here," Esme instructed, her tone firm yet gentle as she stood and moved toward the door.

When she opened it, Lady Arabella stood poised on the other side. Her expression was disturbingly serious, and her demeanor was as composed as ever.

Before Esme could greet her, Lady Arabella spoke up. "There’s something important I need to discuss with you. In private."

Esme hesitated for a moment, glancing back at Althea, who seemed smaller than before. She was about to tell her Aunt that she was preoccupied when Althea suddenly showed up at her side, forcing a weak smile. "It’s fine. You two can talk. I was just about to leave anyway. I suddenly feel exhausted so... I think I’ll get some rest for now. We can continue our conversation later."

Without waiting for a response, Althea offered a polite nod and slipped past them. As much as Esme needed an excuse to avoid having any conversation with Lady Arabella, she could not hold Althea down if she needed rest.

Esme simply turned back to the room, leaving the door open for Lady Arabella who gracefully stepped inside. The room was more modest in comparison to other rooms in the building, and the curtains were opened, allowing light to flicker into the room. A simple wooden table stood at the center, cluttered with herbs and small bottles— the remnants of Esme’s attempt at concocting medicine. The faint scent of dried lavender mingled with the sharper notes of crushed roots.

Esme’s hands moved to instinctively clear the table that was scattered with ingredients, while Lady Arabella observed her, her sharp blue eyes taking in the scene before her.

"You’re a Luna now," Lady Arabella murmured, her voice firm. "You should have others doing these tasks for you, not by yourself. Do you realize how much you’re doing for someone of your status? Most would be indulging in the luxuries that came with the title. But you... you’re becoming more like your father now."

Esme’s movements stilled, her expression hardening slightly before she exhaled slowly, shaking her head. "I won’t trust my friend’s health to anyone else," she said, her tone resolute. "I don’t need others to handle things I can do myself. In case you haven’t noticed yet, I’ve gotten stronger than the Esme you remember."

She finished clearing the table, wiping her hands before hanging the towel on a nearby rack on the wall. "But that’s not the real reason you’re here, is it?"

Lady Arabella couldn’t help but feel somewhat intimidated with the way Esme spoke to her these days. However, she chose to fold her arms, bottling up her own emotions while maintaining a stance.

"No, it isn’t," she responded. "Since you claim to remember everything that happened all those years ago... as difficult as it is to believe, aren’t you at all curious to know about what happened to your healing abilities?"

Esme tensed a bit at the question, now facing her Aunt fully. Her gaze flickered away for a brief moment, the movement small but telling, and that made Lady Arabella’s expression shift, her sharpness dulling as realization dawned.

"So, you know the truth? You’ve always known that the true bearer stole your healing abilities when you tried to save the Alpha from becoming what he was destined to be? That sacrifice you made has cost you so much, Esme, including your wolf." Lady Arabella’s voice trembled with disbelief, her eyes locked on Esme.

To her awe, Esme simply shrugged, refusing to let the revelation unsettle her. "I suspected as much. And as much as I regret having my powers taken from me, I do not regret saving Donovan. I may have lost my healing abilities, but I regained it another way, and I’m okay with that. As for my wolf, I am no longer bothered about that, cause Donovan loves me just the way I am, with or without my wolf. I’ll get stronger, regardless of its absence"

Lady Arabella’s gaze hardened at Esme’s stubbornness. "Your healing powers were the most precious gifts you possessed, Esme. They were powerful enough to even suppress a shifter’s curse. Back then, we all believed Alpha Zephyr was the true bearer who stole your gift. That belief fueled your father’s aim, leading him to kill the Alpha in the hope of restoring your power. But then we come to realize that Alpha Zephyr was never the true bearer, because the curse was still spreading. If the late Zephyr wasn’t the true bearer, then it’s—"

"Donovan is not the true bearer," Esme cut in sharply before her Aunt could complete it. "He isn’t, and he will never be. I’ve been by his side, and not once has he acted under the influence of his curse."

Pausing for a moment, Esme closed her eyes to gather her composure before continuing. "I understand your concerns, but Donovan will never be my downfall. I trust him, far more than the facade you constantly show me"

Lady Arabella’s shoulders sank, her expression shifting into something Esme couldn’t decipher– a hint of guilt, maybe?

"My intentions are sincere, Esme," Lady Arabella’s voice softened as she approached the window, gazing into the distance. "I know I failed you before, that there were times you needed me, needed your family... and we weren’t there for you. But I’m trying to make amends, to protect you from being hurt again. You and Donovan... it’s impossible."

"You’re only saying that because you don’t understand anything," Esme shot back, her voice icy.

"But I do," Lady Arabella countered, turning to face Esme fully, her tone heavy with the implication. "Including the blood.. bloodline curse tied to his family name. I’m guessing he hasn’t told you about it, has he? Why would he?"

Esme’s eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"